moreshortstuff

Life, kids etc.

The curse of the child genius, part 17

on March 15, 2012
English: Internationell road signs in Kungsträ...

Road signs provide lots of fun for the young enthusiastic reader

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE BOLTON NEWS, FRIDAY 24 FEBRUARY 2012
MY little boy loves reading.
Since starting school in September he’s really taken to the way different letters make different sounds and how they can go together to form words.
Anything with letters on, he tries to read.
I suppose we should be encouraging this but the reality is, his attempts at reading anything and everything have become a curse.
We can no longer leave the paper lying around. He picks it up and asks what this or that headline means. And it is never the funny story about a cat playing the piano or something – it will be the cruellest bit of news imaginable. That means me having to fob him off with a made up version of world events.
Syria, for example, is not the home of a brutal regime massacring innocents – this is not a suitable story for four-year-old ears. Syria is instead the name of a girl at big school who has got into trouble for being naughty.
But the fobbing off is nowhere near as easy as it was a few months ago. Before, when he asked what something said, I was quite relaxed about feeding him a load of porkies. “ It says boys under five need to be in bed for 7 o clock tonight or the police will come and take them away,” I could idly threaten.
Now that power has been taken away from me. “No it doesn’t,” he will confidently say.
We went for a bit of a walk the other day but what should have taken half an hour dragged on and on. The reason? His insistence on reading aloud every sign we passed. Every sign. Who knew there were so many signs along Moss Bank Way?
Every 20 yards we stopped for five minutes while he slowly spelt out each direction or advertisement.
A Bovis Homes development was easy. The Bridge in Astley Bridge Cricket Club slightly tripped him up. But he had no problem with the zumba classes that are being held there. Asda and the vets were easy. But the brown sign pointing to Thornleigh Salesian College blew his tiny mind. “It’s pronounced ‘Thornleigh’ and is the name of the college,” I told him. “And a college is a school for older boys and girls.”
“What’s shall-eastern then,?” he asked. “Salesian…errr, it’s a type of Catholic,” I guessed.
“What’s a Kaffer-lick then?” he asked.
Explaining Catholicism to a four-year-old is one of the oddest and most difficult thing I have ever attempted to do – and I say that as the son of an Irish Catholic who went to a Catholic school, where teachers and Catholic priests regularly explained Catholicism to kids.
I did wonder about fobbing him off with lies but thought that might cause problems with his Irish grandmother somewhere down the line. In the end I settled for a hotch potch of basic Catholic doctrine with some Star Wars plot lines thrown in. I think it worked. Although later on I did catch him asking his mum why Jesus didn’t use his lightsaber on Judas.
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